School Reunion
by SpaceShipZoom
Summary: Three of Sherlock's old school 'friends' turn up at 221b. Why are they there, and how much trouble have they bought with them?
1. Unwelcome Visitors

**Hello there! So, my friend Rhiannon (tomatoesonstrings) has written a Sherlock fanfic entitled 'School Reunion' (its pretty good, you'll find it in her story 'SherlockJohn oneshots) and it stars Keri and myself as school friends of Sherlock. Now, while waiting for Rhiannon to write another chapter, Keri and I decided we would write our own versions of School Reunion, including Rhiannon in the story as well. Keri has her own account now, if she can get it working. I KNOW that Sherlock most probably went to an all-boys school, but for the sake of this, its a mixed school. Okay? Then lets go!**

John was on the phone. Mrs Hudson was out for the day. Sherlock was bored. John had banned him from harpooning pigs. He hadn't had a case in weeks. Actually, that was a lie. He'd had lots of cases, but they were all excruciatingly dull. He could've solved them blindfolded, if he could be bothered to tie a blindfold. He'd perfected all the songs he knew on the violin months ago. He threw himself back onto the sofa and decided to shout at John until he got off the phone.  
>"John."<br>No reply. "John."  
>"John!"<br>Still no reply.  
>"JOHN!"<br>"For God's sake Sherlock I was on the phone, what d'you want?"  
>"I'm bored."<br>"Well, luckily for you I've just got another case. Three women, around your age. They'll be round shortly." Sherlock brightened up considerable at the prospect of a case. "Is it a good case?" Sherlock asked. It better not be as bad as the last one. It was so _obvious_ that her stepfather had done it. "I don't know too much about it. I would know more, but you were shouting at me so I had to hang up!" John stared at the consultant detective, trying to make him feel guilty. It didn't work. "So yes, the girls will be here in an hour or so, make sure you're presentable."  
>"I'm always presentable!" Sherlock replied, indignantly. "Sherlock, you've spent the last few weeks lying on the sofa complaining that you're bored. Go and have a shower!"<br>Sherlock got up and walked to the bathroom, grumbling. John threw himself onto the sofa, pleased that he'd finally got Sherlock to move. Then he realised that the three women were coming round in around an hour, so he'd better get changed out of his pyjamas. Oh well, that could wait. He hadn't been able to sit on the sofa for weeks.

Nearly two hours later, the doorbell rang. John, now fully clothed, went to answer the door. The three women standing there were all very different. The first woman was taller than the other two. She had brown hair hurriedly swept up into a messy bun. Multiple piercings on her ears could just be seen underneath her hair. Her faded t-shirt bore the logo of a rock band. She had her hands in the pockets of her black jeans, and was tapping the ground with her military style boots. The second woman was leaning against the doorframe. Her straight burgundy hair fell just below her shoulders, and she had a blunt fringe that was almost in her eyes. Her t-shirt had a slogan on it that used to be funny, until too many people started wearing them and the joke got old. Her bright jeans contrasted wonderfully with her equally bright converse shoes. She didn't appear to be paying much attention to John, as she was too busy tapping away on her iPhone. The third woman was the shortest, but also appeared to be the most excited about the situation they were in. She wore a black trilby atop her dark curls, a small golden badge of a magnifying glass pinned to it. A blue scarf hung across her leather jacket, unzipped to reveal a picture of the TARDIS from Doctor Who. She was bouncing on the heels of her blue converses. "Oh hello, so you found the house th-" John was interuppted by screams from the girls as they saw Sherlock pacing the living room. "John! No-" but Sherlock was drowned out by an attack from two of the women. The woman with the burgundy hair stayed at the door, and shook John's hand, smiling warmly.  
>"Hey, you must be Doctor Watson. I'm Keri. That's Megan" Keri said, gesturing to the woman chatting animatedly to Sherlock, who wasn't paying any attention. "And that's...oh no, Rhiannon! Rhiannon, stop!" Rhiannon had wrapped her arms around Sherlock's neck (which was no mean feat, considering their height difference) and appeared to be trying to hug him to death. Rhiannon's trilby lay forgotten on the floor, in severe danger of being trampled. Megan bent down and swiftly retrieved the hat and placed it back on her friend's head. "Give her a minute Keri, she's a bit excited!" Megan called from the couch where she had sat down. As Rhiannon tried to jump up to kiss Sherlock, Keri and Megan decided enough was enough, and dragged the shorter woman away from the detective. They pulled her onto the sofa between them, where they could restrain her if they needed to. John walked to stand next to his flatmate, looking thoroughly bemused by the entire scene that he had just witnessed. "Do you know them?" John asked, incredulously. The three women on the couch giggled like teenagers.<br>"Unfortunately, yes. Megan, Keri, Rhiannon and myself were at school together."  
>"We were friends - we always had our little group, just us four. Mystery solvers of the playground, we were!" Megan chirped up. She seemed to be the louder of the trio. Keri seemed quieter, more reserved than the other two. Rhiannon...well she was just crazy. She seemed to have quite the liking for Sherlock, judging by the magnifying glass on her hat and the scarf she wore that matched his. But they claim to have been his friends...Sherlock doesn't do friends. It just doesn't happen. The strange thing was that he didn't disagree with this statement - it seems that they actually were friends. A long time ago.<p>

"So, why are you here? Make it quick, I'd rather you left soon." Sherlock asked rudely. The three women glanced at eachother, affronted.

"Actually, I think we can stay for a little while, Sherlock Holmes. You see, we haven't heard a peep from you in almost TWENTY YEARS. We wrote, we sent you messages on that website of yours, we tried to find you on facebook... The amount of nights Rhiannon has come home _crying_ because a letter got returned without being opened. You could've called!" Keri was getting purple in the face with anger. Sherlock was backing away - Keri looked like she was going to punch him. "Keri, sit back down." Megan placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. Keri gave her trademark death glare to Sherlock, and threw herself onto the couch, arms firmly folded. Rhiannon looked embarrassed.

"Is this true, Sherlock?" John questioned, his brow furrowed. After a pause, Sherlock gave an almost imperceptible nod. John shook his head. He'd never be able to understand how his genius flatmate's brain worked. After a long and awkward silence, some point during which Keri reached into her bag, pulled out some blue headphones and began bobbing her head in time with the rhythm. Eventually John broke the silence.

"So, why do you need our help?"

Megan immedietly began to explain their predicament. "Well, we share a flat in Cardiff. Our landlord, Mr Thompson, lives the floor above. Its only us in the building. He's a lovely man, wouldn't hurt a fly. The amount of times he's helped us out of some sticky situations with the law!" Megan laughed.

"So, why exactly do you need us?"

"Because someone shot him." Keri shrugged. She made it quite obvious that she was still angry with Sherlock.

"Yeah. We found him one morning, lying on the floor. It was horrible..." Megan shuddered. Rhiannon picked up from where Megan left off.

"No sign of a forced entry, nothing. He's recovering in hospital, but his head must've hit the floor pretty hard. He can't remember a thing."

"Is there any reason you can think of why someone would shoot him?"

"To get to us. There's this person, who... well, they don't exactly like what we do." Keri said bluntly. Sherlock gestured for Keri to continue speaking. "We're con artists. Don't look at us like that, Sherlock Holmes!" Sherlock had just raised his eyebrows. "We're not malicious. We do it for good. Giving criminals a taste of their own medicine. Its not our main job, its just something we do on the side. Megan and I do the actual conning, Rhiannon is always there to get us out if things get a bit troublesome. Well yeah, theres this guy. Swift, his name is. Sort of the opposite of you, Sherlock. Criminal. Bad through and through. Well, a few months ago, we tried to con him. Lets just say, it didn't work." Keri laughed dryly.

"And now he's after you?" Sherlock asked, now rather interested in this case. After all, he'd had quite a bit of experience in the area of dangerous evil enemies. The three women nodded.

"Con artists, eh? Are you any good?" John asked, never having met one before, let alone be in a room with three of them. In response, Megan pulled John's watch out of her pocket. He hadn't even felt it leave his wrist.


	2. School Days

Nothing much happened over the next few days. Keri, Megan and Rhiannon never left the flat. They were certain that Swift was coming after them. It could be minutes, or it could be weeks, but he was coming. It was just a matter of time. Sherlock hoped it was the former, having three extremely chatty women around the flat really didn't help his concentration. One day, after Sherlock had thrown his violin down the stairs in frustration, John decided enough was enough. He'd have to talk to Sherlock. He sent the girls downstairs to help Mrs Hudson, and sat on the couch next to the consultant detective.

"Look, Sherlock..."

"They have to go." Sherlock said abruptly. "They never shut up, they've messed up three very important experiments AND they take forever in the bathroom. Keri was in the bath for an HOUR this morning!"

"Yes Sherlock I know, but they're your friends!" Sherlock made a 'pah!' noise at the mention of friends. John glared at him and carried on talking. "They're your friends and they need you. So tell me, how did you meet?" John looked expectantly at his flatmate.

"School..." Sherlock mumbled. He evidently tried to block all recollection of his school years from his memory. John tapped the side of the sofa, getting a little impatient. "Fine. It was the first day of secondary school. I didn't know anyone. Mother had insisted on sending Mycroft and myself to boarding school, so I couldn't just go home at the end of the day if things didn't go too well. As the car drove away, these three boys came up to me. They were a few years older. They'd seen me get out of the car with Mycroft. Turns out they didn't get on too well with my brother. Mycroft had already disappeared inside. Well, these boys... they pulled my bag off my back, grabbed my suitcase and kicked me into the gravel. I sat up slowly, fully expecting to have lost all my things for good."

"Then the girls came past. After a brief discussion, Rhiannon threw a rock at the back of one of their heads. Keri rushed forwards, and kneed one of them in the stomach. Megan appeared to have disappeared, only to drop down from a nearby tree moments later. Keri already had all three boys on the floor, writhing in pain. Rhiannon came over to me and helped me off of the floor. Megan was tip-toeing between the boys, taking random items out of their pockets. Her and Keri then picked up all of my possesions and brought them over to me. Megan also gave me the things she'd 'borrowed' - two lighters, a wallet with 20 inside, lots of loose change and a chocolate bar. Turns out it was their first day too."

"I was fascinated by them - eleven years old and prepared to attack and pickpocket boys twice their weight. That year was... interesting. I'd wake up in the morning and find heaps of stolen sweets at the foot of my bed. I never did find out how they got into my dorm." Sherlock smiled as he finished his tale. John was confused, again. Sherlock never wanted to speak about his school days, but they didn't seem too bad. In fact, they seemed quite enjoyable.

"So why didn't you keep in touch?" John asked, enthralled by this insight into his friend's life.

"Because I owe them." Sherlock looked away. Of course, John thought, Sherlock hated owing people. Those girls saving his bacon on the first day... He could never repay them. So the next best thing would be to completely block them out of his life. And now they're back... so he has to put up with them. He can't kick them out. He can make them want to leave, sure, but these are women who roundhouse kick bullies and steal their chocolate. They won't give up that easily. At that moment, Rhiannon came bounding into the room. She opened her mouth to speak, and then saw Sherlock and John sitting in silence.

"Oh God, I'm not interrupting anything am I?" She asked anxiously.

"No, no, it's fine." John smiled back at her.

"Oh, good, because if I was, I would be so sorry, really, I mean-" Keri placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Sorry guys, she always gets a bit over-excited when she talks to Sherlock. Anyone want some tea?" she offered.

Megan was already in the kitchen, looking out at the street. Suddenly she rushed to the bathroom and threw open the window. She was already hanging half way out of it by the time her screams made sense.

"He's here! Swift is here!"


	3. On The Run

Keri and Rhiannon glanced quickly at eachother, and rushed to the bathroom window, frantic to escape. Megan had dropped three storeys into a skip, jumped out and re-gained her balance. Rhiannon was next to join her. Then Keri. Then, surprisingly, Sherlock and John, landing within moments of eachother. The men looked at their lodgers, nodded, and the quintet sprinted off, getting further and further away from 221b.

After nearly an hour of racing through back streets without looking back, the group were knackered. As the women collapsed on a bench, Sherlock looked around impatiently.  
>"Look, if this Swift person is as bad as you say, then why are we stopping! We have to keep moving, unless you want to get caught!"<p>

"We're...not..u-used to running!" Megan gasped. "When we...run a con, we always h-have a getaway...car!" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Well, you're con artists...can't you get us a car then?" John asked, trying to mask the fact that he was bent over slightly and breathing deeply. The three women looked at eachother, grinning.

"Step aside, you're about to see professionals at work!" Keri stood up, smirking. John and Sherlock sat on the bench they had previously occupied, waiting for them to return. After about a minute, John's phone rang.

"Oh hey John. Quick question for you. Black or silver?" Rhiannon's voice crackled through the speaker.

"Er...What?" John replied.

"Just answer, John. We're in a bit of a rush."

"Black, I guess?"

"Okay thanks!" Rhiannon hung up on him.

"What was that all about?" John looked at Sherlock, confused.

In a multi-storey down the road, the three women were inconspicuously trying to steal a old, black ford fiesta. Megan took a grip from her hair and, leaning casually against the wall, picked the lock on the boot. Keri then clambered from the boot through to the drivers seat, and unlocked all the doors. Rhiannon worked some wizardry with the wires and voila, one car. From parked to waiting in front of Sherlock and John in five minutes.

"Your carriage awaits!" Rhiannon called from the drivers seat. Megan was in the passenger seat, so it looked as if Sherlock and John were squishing in the back with Keri.

"We best get going then." Sherlock said, irritated. He was much too tall for the little car. His knees were practically around his ears. "I don't see why I couldn't sit in the front..."

"Because I called shotgun!" Megan replied gleefully. She was quite enjoying watching Sherlock's discomfort. He looked like a spider, with incredibly long legs. Keri looked equally awkward. It would've been a squeeze to just fit Sherlock and John in the car, but with Keri sandwiched in the middle aswell... It was like a game of sardines. Megan was the only one who was completely comfortable with their situation. Rhiannon kept glancing in the rear-view mirror for signs of Swift or his cronies.

"Relax, Rhiannon! We're miles away from London, they have no idea where we went!" This was partly true. They were most definitely miles away from London. The towering grey jungle had long since left the windows, to be replaced by rolling hills and sheep.

"Yeah Rhiannon, chill out!" Keri muttered from her very un-chilled-out position.

"Um...Rhiannon? Where are we going?" Megan asked a bit too politely. They had been in the car for nearly five hours now without stopping. Megan couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a house, or any sign of civilisation.

"We'll stop at the next hotel we see, and stay there for the night, okay?" Rhiannon replied. It was a pretty ambiguous answer, but hey, at least it was something. As the car trundled along the twisting country lane, something didn't sound quite right. Rhiannon looked nervously at the dashboard.

"Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no!" Rhiannon cried. A few moments later, the car shuddered to a complete standstill.

"WHAT JUST HAPPENED?" Keri screamed, so loudly that Sherlock and John flinched into the car doors.

"We're out of petrol." Rhiannon whispered.

"WHAT." Megan shouted. "What are we going to do now- oh no. Oh, God no." She pointed to a point on the horizon. A car was driving along, with a sole white search light on the roof. The sign of one of Swift's gang. One of Swift's gang who was searching for a target. Such as the women.

"I'd say we have approximately fifteen minutes before the car reaches us." Sherlock said, staying remarkably calm in the presence of three women on the verge of having panic attacks. "Oh, really? Just flip the car over into that ditch, then hide in that hedge about two hundred metres down the road. Just THINK a little!" The three women (and John, who was just standing there like a fifth wheel) nodded, and set to work on the car. It was considerably easier to roll the car than they thought it would be, the difficult part was trying to do it silently. It took them so long to manouvre the car, that by the time it was safely in the ditch Swift's cronies had almost reached them. With time running short, they literally had to sprint down the road in different directions.

Not one second after Rhiannon finally crawled into the undergrowth, Swift's car turned the corner. The five adults held their breath as the car sped past, search light swivelling. It stopped at the overturned Fiesta, investigated for around ten minutes, then drove off back the way it came. After it was safely round the corner, the women looked up.

Each of them had one of Swift's henchmen standing right in front of them. As the women were dragged kicking and screaming into the car, Sherlock and John could only watch in horror.

Sherlock's phone buzzed.

Can't talk long. Car going south. Help would be great. Keri.


	4. Can't Hide Forever

The women were gagged in the back of the car, with their wrists tied. Their bags had been thrown out onto the road a few miles ago. Keri only still had her mobile because she kept it inside her shoe. After a lot of shifting around, she managed to manoeuvre the iPhone from her foot to where her hands were situated behind her back. After some frantic texting and organising with Sherlock, they had formed a plan. All they had to do now was wait.

At the agreed point (as they passed the sign saying 'Welcome to Weymouth') Megan, Keri and Rhiannon began to put their plan into action. After freeing their wrists from the rope that bound them, they tried to unbuckle their seatbelts and move into a position to make their move easier. When Rhiannon saw the tail of a long black coat whip around the corner, the women nodded at eachother. Simultaneously, Rhiannon and Keri (who were nearest the doors) jabbed their elbows into the window next to them and jumped out of the still-moving vehicle. Before Swift's men knew what was going on, Keri had rolled aside to allow Megan to swing through what used to be a window. By the time the car had stopped, the women had sped around the corner and were inside a skip, where John and Sherlock were waiting for them.

"We should move. They'll be here any minute now." Rhiannon muttered.

"No. Stay here for a second."

"Sherlock, we can't hide forever!"

"Just trust me."

At that moment Swift and his gang came hurtling around the corner. Sherlock, John, Megan, Rhiannon and Keri climbed over the side of the skip and stood at the end of the alley. Swift's gang stood at the other end.

"Your time's up, sweethearts." Swift called, his voice low and gravelly. "Nowhere to run now!" Swift's henchmen saw this as a joke, and began to laugh and jeer awkwardly at the women.

"Oh?" Keri smiled, raising an eyebrow. Suddenly, a bright light filled the alley and a car bowled over Swift's gang.

"Get in then. I don't have all night!" Greg called from the drivers seat. The five adults looked at the men lying on the tarmac. Suddenly, Megan ran towards Lestrade in the car.

"I CALL SHOTGUN!" She yelled.

Sherlock could only roll his eyes as the others erupted with raucous laughter.

The next morning, back at 221b, the women were packing up their things to leave.

"You don't have to go, you know." John said as they hauled their cases to the door.

"We know. But we know Swift will come for us again, and it's not fair to get you involved again." Keri replied.

"You can't hide forever!" John exclaimed, smirking a little.

"But this time, we'll be ready for him. See you, John. Was nice to see you again Sherlock!" Keri called from the door. Megan embraced both men in a bear hug.

"Awwwhhh, I'm going to miss you! Promise you'll actually answer our messages this time?"

"Of course! Won't we, Sherlock?" John asked, nudging his flatmate in the ribs.

"Wha- oh, I mean, yes." Megan grinned and skipped down the steps. Rhiannon followed her, having already lost all her lipstick onto Sherlock's face.

"Oh, by the way," Rhiannon said, "Tom M is planning a school reunion soon, you wouldn't want to-"

"NO!" Sherlock bellowed, causing Mrs Hudson to call down and ask if everything was alright. Rhiannon sniggered, and got into the back of the cab. As it pulled away from 221b, John turned to Sherlock.

"They'll be alright, won't they?"

"Oh, but of course. They're con artists. They can look after themselves. Oh, and I think they took a little momento from their time at 221b" Sherlock added. At John's puzzled look, he pointed to the doctor's wrist. John sighed. They'd taken his watch again.


End file.
